I'd like to say that I'm not normally so shallow as to sit and ponder life's more mundane matters.
So here goes.
I'm not normally so shallow.
However, on occasion, even the deepest thinkers among us *cough*, enjoy chewing the cud about something as superficial as, erm, shaving our legs.
You see, it's not just me. I noticed a tweet the other day from @porridgebrain (aka Josie from Sleep is for the Weak) where she realised it was too cold to shave her legs because all she was doing was shaving off the top layer of her goosebumps.
I know exactly where you're coming from Josie. As I'm sure do most of us.
Except those who wax our legs, or just leave them to grow, heaven forbid.
But whatever our, er, under-trouser state of affairs, it's a topic which affects us all - even the husbands I'm sure, as they're spiked in the night by a bristly brillo pad masquerading as a leg.
But that of course leads to the eternal question.
Do you shave or do you wax, or do you even care?
So this is the thing. Before I had children I would enjoy my monthly wax, knowing that for three whole weeks, at least, my legs would be as smooth as, well, my just-waxed legs. I wanted to say as smooth as a baby's bottom, obviously, but at that moment in time I (a) hadn't ever touched a baby's bottom and (b) they were never really that smooth anyway.
And then I had my first child and after a few weeks of disposable knickers, rubber rings and the inevitable hirsute state of my legs, I decided that I'd better try to smarten myself up just a little.
So I booked a waxing appointment. And then I remembered that I now had a tiny baby who couldn't just be left at home. Hmmmmm. But that needn't be a burden, I thought - she sleeps in the pushchair most of the time - I'll just phone the salon and ask them for a ground floor room so I can leave the pushchair in the corner without waking her up.
Easy as pie.
Except, apparently, it wasn't.
"Oh no, we don't allow babies here," they informed me rather too matter-of-factly. "Health and safety you see."
"But she'll be asleep in the pushchair. She won't even move. I'll park her as far away from the hot wax as possible."
"No. I'm sorry, it against our Health and Safety policy."
So that was that. After 15 years, my monthly waxing sessions had come to an abrupt halt. I could have carried on at some point, of course, or even mixed-up some home-made concoction, but I didn't trust myself with a baby and hot wax (maybe they had a point) and besides, apart from it being much easier to shave, the moment you've picked up that razor, all the years of waxing benefits are undone in an instant.
And that's a fact.
However, like all good stories, of which this is one (obviously), there is a happy ending. Just bear with me for one more moment.
So, I was lying in the bath the other night, lamenting the fact that even with my 5-year-old Wilkinson Sword Lady Protector (in pink), my legs never seem to be smooth for more than two whole hours, when I spied my husband's Gillette Fusion Power Phenom thingy best a man can get, etc, etc, and I thought why not?
Why not indeed? Why should my legs be inferior to his cheeks?
So, of course, I tried.
And d'you know what?
That's all I'm saying.
Why had I never thought of it before?
I now have legs which are indeed as smooth as a baby's bottom and my husband has cheeks as prickly as a hedgehog's bottom and he can't quite work out why.
Before I go just a quick, but huge apology to all my wonderful blogging friends who I haven't visited in a while. I've been struggling somewhat to keep my bah humbug attitude in check and have opted to completely ignore both Christmas and the New Year, at least in terms of writing about it, hoping that if I keep my head down I will be able to emerge in January to bright sunshine.
hayley balozi posted a blog post
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